The Dream
by Sierra
Summary: Fact from fiction, Dreams to Reality...


The Dream 

__

That love is weake, where feare's as strong as hee;

'Tis not all spirit, pure, and brave,

If mixture of Feare, Shame, Honor, have.

Perchance as torches which must ready bee,

Men light and put out, so thou deal'st with mee,

Thou cam'st to kindle, goest to come; Then I

Will dreame that hope againe, but else would die.

Prologue

The sky provided suitable cover for the grim shadows huddled beneath her wing that day; snarled clusters of black hooded human beings crowded sullenly around an ornate wooden box, all wearing the same ghostly expressions, shedding the same tears…and there couldn't be a paler shade of white, white as the sickly scented lilies that scattered the ground. Rachel lowered her eyes as the wind stirred the soft petals, blowing them about in the faint breeze.

White for purity, lilies for death. How ironic, she thought, that such a flower could symbolize such beauty, yet at the same time, contain within it the potential for such destruction. The petals heaved, then fluttered back to earth, landing at her feet. She stared at them contemplatively, folding her arms across her chest. Then, she looked up once more, to witness the painful burial of the coffin.

For a few moments all that could be heard were the grunts and moans from the workers as the dead was laid to rest. Mounds of dirt covered it, burying it deep within the earth. A tombstone was placed on top. The priest clapped shut his book. The crowd dispersed. 

Rachel found herself caught among the dense throng of people as they made their way towards the parking lot, unable to do anything but follow along in silent protest. It wasn't until that they had reached the car park that she pulled herself out of the crowd, standing to one side lips tightly pursed and eyes fastened to the ground. She watched as the cars exited the parking lot, leaving behind gusts of smoke and nauseating fumes that swirled in the air, rising to the clouds. She watched as the last car left and a sudden blast of cold air whipped through the surrounding trees, and as sudden silence filled the empty lot. She watched as the sky darkened and filled with water. She watched as it began to rain. 

Rachel pushed her blood red locks away from her face and removed the dark pair of shades she wore, all the while standing unprotected beneath the tempest. Soon, she was soaked to the bone. Rachel drew in a jagged breath then simply turned towards the horizon line, blinking out rain or tears... Rivulets of water traced her cheeks and permanent sadness had been etched into every line, every bittersweet memory as where she once found joy, she instead found sorrow. Sorrow that would not leave, and sorrow that left an acrid taste in her mouth, burning, hurting… she welcomed the pain.

Deadpanned, she started walking towards the street, crossing muddy puddles and a road slick with rain, Tobias slowly trailing behind. And as it rained, the dye in her hair began to wash out, streaming mercilessly down the back of her dress and spilling into those muddy puddles, as dark and bloody as the prayers of those who had wept, wept for the life of a man; a man that shouldn't have died. 

"_Rachel… we shouldn't be seen like this."_

"_Always the voice of reason, aren't you Tobias? Besides_, _there's no one around for miles."_

"It doesn't hurt to be careful. Jake reported suspicious-"

"Stop being such a pessimist." She jibed playfully "That was days ago. I doubt anyone would still be hanging around this pathetic excuse of a camp site." She kicked a piece of debris off the ground.

"So what exactly are we doing out here?" He asked, sticking his hands into his pockets with a rueful smile. "This isn't exactly the most romantic place on earth you know." 

"True." She whispered, drawing closer to him. "But on the other hand I haven't been able to have you to myself for days, so…"

"So what?" She yelled through the thunder of the rain, never once stopping her brisk pace. "It's not like I care."

She passed row by row of houses, until coming upon an old little tavern on the right side of the street. At first glance one might've come to the conclusion that it had been abandoned, for it lacked proper upkeep, with silence surrounding it like an aura of death. But at a second glance, the dim lights emanating from the squalid establishment would tell a person otherwise and suddenly it would not seem so run down after all. Having no better option, she turned into it, climbing up the steps and opening the door.

The tavern was virtually empty, with the exception of two drunkards engaged in inebriated jargon at the end of the counter and one chain smoker who sat idly by the window, minding his own business and seemingly lost in thought. Satisfied, she walked across the rickety floorboards then tossed a few coins to the bartender

"A beer." 

The grumpy old man raised an eyebrow. 

"That be a dollar miss."

"I don't have a dollar. Beer doesn't cost a dollar. Beer costs what you have clutched in your chubby little hand over there you filthy jackass so give me my beer." 

The bartender stood his ground, looking her hard in the eye.

"I don't be taking no orders now miss. This be a good bar and our prices are fair, albeit the place could do a bit of redoing. I'll not have you exhorting any money from me miss, a beer's worth a dollar and you ain't getting it for anything less."

__

"So?" He murmured running his fingers through her hair. 

One shot rang out.

Rachel glared angrily at him. A dark look on her face, she stormed out of the tavern, leaving the bartender staring after her. Outside, the rain continued to fall.

[Authors Note: I rewrote this earlier this morning you little spammer. How do you like it now? To everyone else, whether or not Rachel killed Tobias or whether someone else did… that's for your imagination to decide. This story is also called the dream for very specific reasons. See if you can pick up on it, and no, it has nothing to do with the literal meaning of the word...]


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